


Eye of the Storm

by Remmak



Category: Our Life: Beginnings & Always (Visual Novel)
Genre: Bullying, Coming of Age, Coping, F/M, Serious, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29274297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remmak/pseuds/Remmak
Summary: A short vignette collection detailing a crisis in the lives of Cove Holden and Riley Last (MC/"Jamie" Last) and how they deal with it. Told in four parts, each representing a stage in process of learning to acknowledge and cope with trauma. The first chapter of this story is light and suitable for all; trigger warnings are applicable primarily for chapters two and three. Please note: while this story does contain references to sexual abuse and mild violence, nothing is explicit and I have done my utmost to be sensitive to the topic. This story collection is meant as an emotional outlet and way of conveying to trauma survivors that they are not alone. I chose the voice of Cove Holden for this story because I find Our Life to be a very sensitive and insightful game that made an excellent vehicle for this narrative.
Relationships: Cove Holden & Main Character | Jamie Last (Our Life)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. The Calm

“Hey Cove, your package came today.”

Cove Holden instantly perked at the news. It was a Friday, and he’d just arrived home from school to find his father already there. He’d expected this, as his father had for once forewarned him of his plans to alter their usual day-to-day, but it still annoyed him that his usual routine had been snatched away. He dropped his backpack in the entryway and made haste for the kitchen.

His father, Cliff, was standing near the stove, spooning what looked like goulash into some tupperware. When his son entered the room, he paused and gestured at a shiny bubble-mailer sitting atop the counter of the bar with his spoon.

“You could have left it for me,” Cove complained as he reached for it.

“And risk porch-pirates? No way, Jose,” his father replied jovially, “Riley’d have my head if I let someone steal something you worked so hard for.”

Cove retreated to the living room and plopped cross-legged onto the floor in front of the coffee table. It would be his neighbor – and best friend’s – birthday soon, and the gift he’d so carefully chosen for her was finally in his hands, yet he was torn. Would she like it? The rhythm of his heart lurched as it always did when Riley Last entered his mind. She wasn’t like other girls, or other people really, and she was the only person on Earth who both thrilled and terrified him.

Ever since they were young, Riley had loved action flicks and acrobatics. She was active, energetic, and able to meet him on almost every physical benchmark for fitness. When they’d become teenagers, she’d managed to convince her mothers to enroll her in a martial arts class, and to their mild chagrin, her sport of choice had grown into a lifestyle in the ensuing years. The upcoming birthday would be her sixteenth, making her eligible to pursue her next belt rank in Brazilian jiu-jitsu – an achievement he knew firsthand Riley was keen to acquire. It was for that reason, and, perhaps, a smaller, more secret and more selfish one, that he’d settled on this particular present.

He took a deep breath and tore the perforated edge of the envelope and tipped it’s contents onto the glass top of the coffee table. A clear plastic bag housing a bit of folded blue cloth slid out. With careful movements, he inspected the packaging for damage before opening the taped end and spreading out the garment inside. His heartbeat raced at the sight of the huge blue wave rolled out in front of him.

It was Hokusai’s Great Wave Off Kanagawa. Cove had first seen it on surfing gear in a merchandizing magazine from his father’s store, and after learning more about the image and it’s origins, decided it was the perfect print for the new rashguard Riley was in need of. She’d hit her growth spurt, and the long-sleeved protective top she normally wore to train in had been recently ripped at the shoulder. He knew he couldn’t simply order the one in the magazine as it was made for surfing – not martial arts, which required a lighter material – but he was determined to find something suitable, and, with some help from his father, he’d finally found a vendor that could provide what he was looking for.

“Wow, bud...looks great. I think she’s gonna like it!”

Cove started at the sound. He’d been too busy reflecting on the reasoning behind his choice of gift to notice his father creep up on him. Annoyed by the intrusion and unwilling to let Cliff be _too_ pleased with his role in the purchase, Cove voiced a very real concern. “If it fits, you mean.”

Cliff crossed to the opposite side of the coffee table and tugged at the rashguard’s wrists until the arms were fully extended. “Aww, I think it’ll be alright. Riley’s moms said she usually runs a large, and at the rate she’s growing it won’t hurt to have a little extra room.”

Cove took back the rashguard and did his best to ignore the inexplicable irritation he felt at his father’s assessment of his friend as he slid it back into it’s package for safekeeping. It had been an expensive gift for him, and he knew he’d be beyond pissed if she couldn’t wear it. After all, he’d ordered the surfer version for himself. It was stupid he knew, but he hadn’t been able to resist the notion that by matching their clothes he was conveying in deed a feeling he’d hitherto been unable to express to Riley in words – that he and she were two halves of a pair.

‘Where is she today, anyway?” Cliff continued, “I figured you two’d have all kinds of plans since you’re gonna have the house to yourself and all.”

“Wrestling team has a meet next week. Riley had to stay for practice.”

“A-hah. So _that’s_ why you’re in such a sour mood.”

Cove frowned. His argumentativeness hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Staying late at school on a Friday...” Cliff mused as he returned to the kitchen, “They sure work you kids hard these days.”

“Riley always works hard,” Cove stated simply as he leaned across the top of the coffee table with a deflated air.

As his father suspected, Cove had been contemplating the best use of the upcoming weekend since his father had told him about his trip two weeks ago. There was a big trade show related to his business being held in Vegas, and he was flying out that evening to be there, with a planned return on the following Sunday afternoon. That meant Cove would be staying home alone, overnight, for the first time in his life. With the Lasts’ keeping an eye on things from next door, of course. Unfortunately for him, the timing was such that his favorite Last was going to be a little late to the party.

Cove sighed. He wasn’t upset, exactly; He knew full well how dedicated Riley was to her training – that steadfast reliability was one of the things he liked about her – but he was frustrated. Why did her schedule have to stray from his on that particular weekend? Was he jealous? Was it even possible to jealous of a situation? Or was that feeling just for people?

Life was complicated, and, deciding he had no answers for it at the moment, Cove reluctantly got up to retrieve his book bag from the foyer and head upstairs to finish his homework. He didn’t want his assignments cutting his time with Riley any shorter than it already was.

He’d just placed his foot on the first step when the phone rang. He paused a moment and listened to the conversation flowing from the kitchen.

“Holden residence,” Cliff answered. “Oh, Mrs. Last...”

Cove stiffened at the name and sharpened the focus of his hearing.

“Listen, I really appreciate you taking the time to help out with Cove this weekend.” His father laughed. “I know, right? But it can’t be helped I guess. Uh-huh. Sure.”

His father’s tone changed from something light-hearted to a little sheepish. “Well, I’m afraid my flight got pushed up – my cab’ll be here any minute, actually, but I’m sure Cove wouldn’t mind.”

Cliff’s voice picked up again. “He got his license recently and I’m comfortably certain in the quality of the breaks I had installed, so…”

With an inkling of what might be happening on the other end of the line, Cove abandoned his book bag and rushed to his father’s side. Cliff eyed him with an obnoxiously big grin from where he leaned against the bar, phone in hand. “No problem, Mrs. Last. Thanks again. Goodnight.”

Cliff ended the call and placed the handset back on it’s charger with deliberate, careful movements for which his son had no patience.

“So?” Cove blurted.

“Soo...” Cliff drawled smugly, “It seems you’ll be getting a bit more responsibility than originally planned today. The Lasts are a little tied up and they were hoping for some help in picking up Riley.”

“And?”

“Practice is over at six,” Cliff concluded. He reached across the kitchen counter and plucked his keys from a dish before holding them out to Cove. “Don’t keep her waiting.”

Cove stared at the dangling keys in disbelief. “Really? You’re gonna let me take the car?”

“Well, I’d have to pay to park it if I took it to the airport, and besides, you have to start sooner or later,” his father reasoned. “At least this way you have the chance the make a good impression with Riley’s moms, right?”

Cove’s distinctive eyebrows crinkled. He’d always suspected the Last mothers didn’t have the highest opinion of him, regardless of their willingness to allow him to spend time with their youngest daughter. As he’d grown older, he’d come to realize that their impression wasn’t entirely unjustified, and he should, perhaps, do better. He still wasn’t entirely sure what better was, but he no longer blamed the Lasts for their suspicions. Every time he remembered his attempt to flee home and Riley’s resulting pursuit of him to the edge of town he felt his face flush.

He reached for the keys and muttered. “Thanks, dad.”

“No problem, sport. Just be careful, yeah? Forecast says it might be raining later.”

Cove glanced out the window thoughtfully as his father rolled his suitcase to the front door. He hadn’t noticed any clouds on his way home, but Sunset Bird was a sea town, and it wasn’t unheard of for bad weather to roll in off the coast without much warning. Hopefully, whatever it was would clear over the night, and he’d be able to hit the beach with Riley in the morning. In the past, they’d found neat things lodged in the sand after storms, including some sea glass that had been converted into decor for the fish tank in his room. He was pondering what they might discover this time when the sound of a car horn broke his concentration.

Cove followed his father outside, where a yellow taxi had pulled up to the curb alongside their house. As they made their way down the sidewalk, Cliff began going down his list of parental bullet points.

“Now, there’s goulash for dinner and I stuck the number of the hotel on a post-it on the fridge, okay? The spare house key is in it’s usual place and I left some cash on your nightstand in case of emergencies. If there _is_ an emergency, call the Lasts first. I won’t be able to respond right away from the next state over, understand?”

“I get it, dad...”

“Good,” Cliff said briskly. He stopped at the mailbox and held his arms outstretched. “You gonna give your old man a hug or are you too old for that now?”

With a sigh and roll of his aqua eyes, Cove relented to the contact. He’d never admit it, but even at his age, there was some small comfort in the feel of his father’s tight embrace, and the rumble his chest made when he laughed.

“So, that’s it then,” Cliff concluded upon releasing his hold, “For the next day and a half, you are man of the house. Please don’t burn it down. And make sure Riley is home by ten. I know you’re best friends and all, but you have to remember-”

“She’s somebody’s daughter,” Cove interrupted. “I know, I know.”

Cliff grinned and ruffled his son’s hair. “I’m proud of you son. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

Cove waited on the sidewalk and watched his father load his suitcase into the back of the waiting car. When Cliff got into the cab, the door slammed shut with a sense of finality that gave Cove a shiver. His father was really leaving.

He recalled standing in the same spot, a short few summers prior, watching a similar scene unfold before him. It was had been his mother then; returning home after her surprise visit for a summer stay in Sunset Bird. The Last family had come to see her off, and it had been smiles all around save for himself. To him, it seemed that by allowing her to leave, he was tacitly approving of his mother’s absence in his life, when nothing could be further from the truth. Riley must have understood. She held his hand and assured him that his mother would return one day, and they would have further adventures together.

Cove smiled at the memory. Riley had been right of course; she was far more sensible than he.

He returned his father’s wave from behind the window glass and waited long enough for the taxi to disappear down the street before making his way back up the drive to his house. As he did so, he surveyed the house next door and noted the absence of the family vehicle. He wondered what it was that was preventing the Last couple from keeping their regular schedule. Something with Elizabeth, maybe? Whatever it was, it must have been important. The Last mothers were very diligent in the supervision of their daughters, despite both girls’ markedly independent natures.

The thought brought Cove back to his current circumstance. He had a whole weekend to do whatever he wanted, practically speaking, and with the keys to his father’s car in his pocket, his world was suddenly a lot bigger. He could go anywhere – even make good on his childhood fantasy and leave Sunset Bird forever if he wanted – but all he could think about was returning to the high school he’d just left an hour earlier and collecting someone he’d seen almost everyday for the past decade.

Of all the things in his life that had changed, his closeness with Riley had remained the same, and it was a comfort he hoped would never go away.

He lifted his gaze to the horizon and was surprised by the wall of gray in the distance. It appeared the weather forecast was correct. As such, he decided it would be a good idea to leave the house a little early, so he could take his time on the way. Though he’d passed his exam with flying colors, he was still an anxious driver, and he had to admit – his father had made a good point earlier. This _was_ a good chance to impress upon Riley’s parents, and his own, that he could be both reliable and responsible. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and he didn’t want to be viewed as such. Not by the adults in life, and certainly not by Riley. 

With an air of determination, he bounded up the short set of stairs to his front door and went inside, where he hid Riley’s birthday present and sat at his desk to attempt his homework until the clock told him it was time to leave. 


	2. The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As noted in the description of this work, this chapter contains references to sexual abuse. Please be cautioned before reading further.

The change in weather had arrived by the time Cove rolled out of his family’s driveway. Dark clouds obscured the setting sun and fat drops of rain drummed the roof of his father’s sedan as he navigated through the neighborhood to the main road. He was relieved that despite the downpour, there was no sign of lighting, and very little wind. It was wet and gray, but otherwise calm, and he felt his confidence grow with each house he passed.

In the passenger seat next to him was a turquoise beach towel he’d grabbed from the hallway closet before leaving his house. He intended it partially for Riley’s comfort, but also for preventing damage to his father’s well-looked after interior. On top of the towel was his cellphone.

Earlier, when he’d been trying – and failing – to focus on his schoolwork, it had occurred to him that he wasn’t sure where the wrestling team met up for their practices. Their high school had a main gym, where matches were held, but their was also a weight room with mats in a separate building by the track. He’d texted Riley to inquire about where he should go to pick her up, but so far she hadn’t answered. The delay wasn’t alarming to him. According to the time, she was still technically in practice, and it was entirely possible her phone was stashed away in her locker.

Cove could remember the day Riley had come home from class and presented her mothers with the waiver to join the wrestling team. It was obvious neither were thrilled with her choice, but, it soon became apparent that she was born for combat sports. Her experience in jiu jitsu made her an excellent grappler, and she had a mental fortitude that kept her getting back up even when life – or larger opponents - knocked her down. She very aware of herself and others, and constantly sought to shore up any areas where she was lacking.

To that end, Riley had changed a lot over the past summer, and not in the ways other girls at school had. Most of her curves were developing in her arms and legs rather than her chest, and while her peers appeared soft and almost fragile, she was hard and angular. Riley was getting stronger every day, and the attention she got in return was of an entirely different sort than her friends received.

Cove frowned over the steering wheel at the glare of the headlights reflecting in the rain. This was particularly true in regards to attention from boys.

While he didn’t understand it, he had none-the-less picked up on the fact that the things that made Riley different – the things he liked about her – were off-putting to many boys. Their interactions with Riley were terse, and even plainly confrontational at times. Cove had heard in the halls how they thought girls shouldn’t fight, and yet, according to Riley, she had been challenged on more than one occasion to that very thing. It was always outside of class, of course, and Riley always ignored their provocations. She was an athlete, not a bully, and as far as Cove could see, she was completely undeterred by their behavior.

It made him happy they were friends. Riley was solid as the shore, and though her shape was shifting, her nature was as it had always been. Maybe other boys found her threatening, but for Cove, she was Botticelli’s Venus, standing on a half shell in the eye of the storm that was their youth.

Cove put on his turn signal and made a right onto the thoroughfare for the high school. As he took the corner, he made out a familiar figure walking in the opposite direction outside a convenience store.

“Riley!”

He jerked and hit his brakes abruptly, earning an annoyed honk from the driver behind him. Equal parts embarrassed and concerned, he pulled to the side of the road and waved apologetically at the car that overtook him. Once it did, he re-entered traffic and made a nail-biting u-turn to catch up to where Riley’s silhouette was still visible under the overhead lighting of the gas station.

As he pulled up behind her in the parking lot, he noted the mud on her knee-high varsity socks. Why as she still in her gym clothes? Her training bag was slung across her shoulders and the hood of her oversized sweatshirt was up, but even in the rain, he could tell by her stiff posture that something was wrong.

He slowly came up next to her and shouted out his rolled-down window. “Riley!”

She started and turned her head at the sound. A pair of wires dangled out of her hood and he realized she hadn’t heard the vehicle. With an awkward gait, she pulled out her ear buds and approached the car. Her face was tight and lacking in expression.

“What are you doing out here?” Cove asked her, “Didn’t you get my text?”

Riley’s large brown eyes blinked slowly, and she absently lifted a hand holding her smart phone from the front pouch of her hoodie to her face. After what seemed like an unnaturally long pause, she looked up and spoke in a voice he couldn’t quite read.

“Where are my moms?”

Cove shook his head. “I’m not sure, my dad talked to them.”

Riley looked back to her phone without response. There was a palpable air radiating off her that was making him nervous. He glanced again at her soaking wet clothes and pinched his eyebrows.

“Get in already,” he said, with only half-joking forcefulness.

Finally, Riley’s features altered to something more normal. She glanced at the leather seats and Cove could tell she shared his concern for the care of his father’s car.

“I’m all wet...”

It struck Cove as an absurdly obvious and yet entirely Riley thing to say. He managed a smile. “And you’re gonna get more wet if you keeping standing out there.”

Her eyebrows lifted in the way they always did when she was making mental concessions. She put her phone back in her pouch pocket and walked to the passenger side. As she did so, Cove threw his own phone into the console and spread out the beach towel. He leaned across it to pop open the door and was pleased when his friend finally slid in next to him. She pulled back her dripping hood, and Cove could see the shine of the water collected on her eyelashes.

He reached into the glove box and held out a small packet of tissues. “Here.”

She took them and, after folding a single sheet into squares, began blotting her face. A few strands of her long brown hair had fallen out of her ponytail, but she seemed otherwise fine. At least physically. Cove put his hands back on the wheel and prepared to retrace his route back home. After giving Riley a few moments of peace to clean herself up, he felt the need to confirm the information he’d been given earlier.

“What happened with practice?” he asked, “I thought you guys weren’t finished until six.”

Riley was looking out the window ahead of them, one hand fidgeting with the zipper on her gym bag. “Coach Burgiss got hurt,” she said simply. “We were let out early.”

Cove’s eyes widened at the news. “Is everyone else okay? What happened?”

“Everyone’s fine,” she said in a hollow voice. She dragged her feet along the floor mats so they were closer to her seat, effectively shrinking her frame. It was something Riley did when she felt vulnerable - a hold over from her martial arts training. When she spoke again, Cove could barely hear her over the windshield wipers.

“I dropped the bar on his foot.”

Cove was privy enough to Riley’s training to understand that “the bar” referred to the seven foot long, forty-five pound barbell that the wrestlers and other student athletes used in weight-lifting exercises. It could be used alone, or loaded up with weight plates to reach hundreds of pounds of resistance. He’d seen Riley deadlift before, and could imagine how much damage something that heavy could do. A lesser part of him was tempted to inquire about the outcome of the injury, but it was obvious from Riley’s abnormal demeanor that doing so would be neither wise nor appreciated.

He opened his mouth to say something, but only a sigh escaped. Everything he thought of sounded contrived. He could say it wasn’t her fault, he knew she would argue that. Riley had a high degree of personal responsibility, and it was beginning to make sense to him why she was acting so strangely. Eventually, he settled on the only thing she couldn’t argue about.

“You should have told me, I’d have come earlier. You didn’t need to go out in the rain.”

She shrugged and wouldn’t look at him.

Cove didn’t like it, but he didn’t want to upset her any further either. The rain was picking up and it was his first priority to get them home safely. He needed to focus.

For several minutes, the car was filled with silence, save for the patter of the rain and the squeak of the wiper blades. All the usual shops and other businesses filed by, distorted by a mosaic of rain droplets. Riley was watching these, facing away from Cove, when she broke their brief truce.

“I did it on purpose.”

Cove’s head turned sharply at her words. “Wha...what? Riley-”

Before he could get out even one of the flood of questions entering his mind, Riley’s face turned to front of the car and her voice got high. Her posture was tense now, aggressive.

“Coach Burgiss is a pervert,” she spat.

Cove’s confusion with the situation only deepened at the outburst. He looked over and tried searching Riley’s face for answers, but it was covered by the stoic mask she wore when competing. A light behind her eyes was burning, but her skin was pale and taut. A heavy feeling began gathering in Cove’s stomach.

“What do you mean?” he asked shakily. His tone was bewildered, but something in his soul screamed caution.

Riley repeated herself, brows drawn low as she glared at a memory in her mind. “He’s a pervert! I heard him talking to Mel - I saw him _touch_ her.”

Goosebumps ran over Cove’s skin, and his hands on the wheel went clammy. Mel was Riley’s teammate; a blonde girl a year ahead of them. Still unsure, but with an undeniable sinking feeling, he tried to rationalize what he was hearing.

“He’s your coach,” Cove posited, “Doesn’t he have to? To teach you form and stuff?”

Riley’s head shook wildly, her voice even sharper. “That’s _not_ what’s happening. It’s gross! He wouldn’t leave her alone, so I got rid of him.”

Cove struggled to drive and process what he was hearing at the same time. His whole body felt wound like a top, strained with the dangerous task of choosing his words in this suddenly very serious conversation.

“You mean he touches you...like...” his throat constricted. Just as it had been only a moment before, his options for verbal expression seemed insufficient. Every phrasing felt, as Riley had put it, “gross” and he _felt_ gross for asking, but at the same time, the emerging adult in him knew it was imperative to do so. “Like...a boyfriend?”

“A boyfriend nobody asked for,” Riley shot back, still staring forward like a machine.

She was angry, and with her revelation, Cove could write the narrative of what had happened in practice that afternoon. Riley saw her friend being taken advantage of, and being of sound morals, Riley found a way to stop it – at least temporarily. The “accident” was no accident at all, but rather, her attempt to defend someone from an appalling situation she wasn’t sure how else to handle. To Cove, however, the course of action seemed obvious, and it didn’t make sense to him why his very practical friend hadn’t taken it.

“Why didn’t you tell the other coaches?” he asked her.

Riley was quiet for a time. Her gaze dropped to the floorboards and she hugged her bag to her chest. “I don’t think they’d believe me. And I only saw it once.”

Cove considered this answer. Riley had no history as a trouble maker, and was not known to lie, but then again, she was still an adolescent. If she were to come forward, it would be the word of a student against a senior member of faculty. What’s more, her allegation wasn’t a simple one of violation of school policies, but rather, a criminal one, for which there very serious consequences. He wondered if perhaps it was fear of how a formal investigation might affect her friend that made Riley attempt her own solutions. Mel might not want it known what had been done to her.

Cove bit his lip. With a sigh, he pulled to the shoulder and put the car in park. He turned in his seat to face his friend and spoke as firmly as his crumbling spirit would allow. “Riley, where is Coach Burgiss now?”

“Hospital,” she said meekly.

“Okay...and Mel?”

Riley shrugged. “Went home, I guess.”

“Do you have her number?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said, even though he wasn’t at all assured of that. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, and his chest was so restricted he could barely talk. His mind was racing. In the past, it had been Riley who handled things when they got heavy. Now that the tables were turned, the pressure he felt was suffocating.

“You have to tell your moms, Riley,” he told her, “Coach Burgiss will be back – they’ll put a cast or crutches or whatever on him and he’ll come back. I know you like to handle things, I know you’re tough, but you can’t fight this alone, and you can’t protect everyone. What if he tries that with someone else? What if he tries it with you?”

Riley jumped like she’d been struck. Her eyes met his for the first time since getting into the car, and Cove felt his heart stop.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, an icy feeling crawling up his spine, “He _has_ hasn’t he? This started with you didn’t it?”

A wail warring with anguish and rage tore from his throat. “Riley!”

Whatever mental reserves Riley had been running on exhausted themselves at that point. Her face fell and hot tears flooded over the edges of her eyelids. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, with no sound, and Cove’s heart shattered. He’d never seen Riley cry before. Not when she found out her biological parents were dead, not when she stepped on a broken bottle at the beach and had to get stitches…not ever. And he _hated_ it.

“Why didn’t you tell someone?” he demanded, more harshly than he’d intended, “Why didn’t you tell _me_?!”

Riley’s crying got worse, and her voice came in sobs. “I thought...if told you...you wouldn’t like me anymore. That you’d...think I was...dir-...Dir-”

Every hitch in her breath was a knife cutting in his heart. Dirty, he concluded. She thought he’d think she was _dirty_.

Without another word, Cove turned the key and, hands shaking, continued their journey.

“I’m taking you home,” he said defiantly. In defiance of what he wasn’t sure, but there was a fury in him he’d never experienced before, and he wanted Riley somewhere he knew was always safe for her – his place.

He head was so clouded on the final leg of the drive that the car was in the driveway before he realized it. It was the sound of silence that brought him around again. The engine had stopped, and so too, had Riley’s crying. She made no attempt to exit, her expression brittle. Every word he spoke to her was pained by a solid lump in his throat.

“Come on, Riley,” he coaxed softly.

Riley looked at him and shook her head in panic. Through their shared bond, he could pick up on what it was that was bothering her.

“To my room,” he explained, “We can deal with your moms later.”

It was inevitable that the adults in their lives would have to be called upon to rectify a situation of the current severity, but it didn’t have to be right then, when Riley was still so raw. As he helped her out of the car, he was thankful for his father’s absence. He didn’t particularly want anyone else around right then, either.

He walked Riley inside and lead her to the bathroom. It was apparent by her robotic movements and dazed expression that, this time, he was going to have fulfill the roles she had for him so many times before: the problem-solver, the comforter, the protector.

He turned on the shower and patiently waited to adjust the water to a suitable temperature before turning back to his friend.

“You’re freezing,” he said, “Get in the shower and toss your clothes outside. I’ll put them in the dryer. You can borrow some of mine ‘til they’re done, okay?”

Riley only nodded in response. He gave her hand a squeeze on his way out of the bathroom. “I’ll be right outside, okay?”

In the kitchen, he reheated the goulash his father had prepared before leaving. Though he wasn’t sure Riley would be willing to eat anything in her upset state, he made the portions large enough to filling for the both of them. As he sat a pair of bowls on his kitchen table, he caught his reflection in the glass surface and noted how spooked he looked.

“I’m an idiot,” he muttered.

He didn’t know how to cope with what was happening. Was anything he was doing helpful? Was he just making it worse? How would he convince Riley to tell her parents? With each passing minute, he was more and more sure that this is what had to happen, but he knew how painful it would be for Riley, and he was loathe to force that on her. She had already endured something awful, and he...he had been clueless it was even happening.

The thought made him choke. He and Riley shared everything. How could she keep something so terrible from him? Rationally, he knew it must have been Riley’s way of looking out for him, and not adding to his troubles, which now seemed petty in comparison, but it left a hole in his heart. He felt pathetic that Riley, whom he had turned to so many times in their childhood, didn’t feel safe enough to treat him in kind.

He covered his face with his hands and fought back a sob. That moment was gone, he told himself. What happened had happened, and all that mattered now was how he dealt with it. What mattered _now_ was putting an end to the abuse, and he wouldn’t fail Riley in that. Not again.

He took a moment to compose himself before returning to the bathroom. The shower was still running, but the sound was even and uninterrupted. Concerned, he knocked on the door.

“Riley?”

No response.

Suddenly afraid, he opened the door without further hesitation and found Riley as he had left her, standing fully dressed in the middle of the floor. To his dismay, the minute she saw his face, she started crying again.

“I’m scared,” she said.

Cove felt a prickly sensation behind his eyes.

“There’s no one here, Riley,” he said sadly, “Just you and me.”

Unconvinced, or perhaps merely unable to _be_ in that space, in that time, Riley stood still and mute as a statue.

At a loss for what else to do, he kicked off his shoes and crossed the bathroom to stand in the tub, the hot water turning his jeans a dark wash. He held out his hand and beckoned Riley in after him. Slowly, with tentative steps, she moved toward the shower. He held her arm, solid with muscle, as she put one foot over the edge of the tub, and then the other. When she was on both feet, he wrapped her a tight hug, and laid his cheek on the top of her head.

“I’m here,” he said softly, “I’ll always be here.”

Through the steam, he saw her face relax, bit by bit, as the water soaked her clothes and warmed her up. The jarring of her hyperventilating body subsided, and she leaned into him in return. He brushed stray hair away from her face, and rocked her gently from side to side, shifting their weight from foot to foot. He wasn’t sure if she was still crying or not, but the faint taste of salt at the edge of his lips was a sure sign that he was.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thank you for reading. Chapter two is currently in the works, but I cannot promise a release time frame. I work full-time and am strength training, so I am quite busy and pretty much only have time to write on Sundays. I apologize if I got any minor time/space issues with the Our Life setting incorrect - I did my best to roughly adhere to the age stages in the game and hope I have given a good sense of where on the timeline the events of my story fall. I hope my work is enjoyable (or at least relatable) to you. I have more stories cooking in my ahead of Cove and my MC Riley that aren't as heavy in nature, but they are for another time when this more important work is complete. Thank you for reading! - Remmak


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